Not For Sale
by SpookyClaire
Summary: Why was Blaine so adamant about not being for sale? That, my friends, is a dark tale… Blangst.
1. Chapter 1

**Not For Sale**: _Why was Blaine so adamant about not being for sale? That, my friends, is a dark tale…_

Please note, this is pretty dark. It's not explicit, it's mostly choppy memories, but it could still be triggering. Be cautious, my babies.

Enjoy!

00

_Slam._

Blaine punched and kicked and just _beat_ the punching bag before him. He tried not to remember. Tried not to think at all.

"_What we need to sell here is sex."_

Blaine shivered, growled, punched the bag again.

"_I'm not for sale."_

"I'm _not_." He snarled, punching the bag with each word.

No matter how hard he held the flood gates, memories overflowed into his mind. Memories of hands all over. Memories of kisses he didn't want. Memories of whispered promises (_threats_) of what they were going to do with him, no matter how much he didn't want them to.

And worse than memories was the fact he knew it was all his father's doing.

With a shuddering sob he stopped punching, fell into the punching bag, wrapping his arms around it as he allowed himself to sink to the floor, letting go.

"_I need you to do something for me, Blaine."_

"_What, dad?"_

"_I need you to help me with a client."_

"_Help you? Me? Really?"_

Blaine had been so eager.

So _naive_.

His father was always a taciturn man. He kept to himself. Didn't speak too much to his sons. But then one day he'd come to Blaine, he'd _asked him for help_. Blaine had all but dreamed of that day. He'd readily agreed.

Had he known what his father was going to ask of him he wouldn't have been so eager.

What was worse, Blaine wasn't the only one his father had been doing it to. Cooper was 5 years older than Blaine, and when Blaine had started 'helping' his father at the tender age of 10 Cooper had been doing it for about three years.

Blaine would never forget the night Cooper walked into his room, found him sobbing. It had taken one glance for the brother's face to go white, a whisper of "Oh God, _no_. Not you too" falling from his lips.

It was then they tried to plan their escape. Cooper took Blaine and ran that night, but they were found quickly, returned home to their father despite what they told everyone about their lives. No one believed them, and if they did they didn't do anything. Their father was a powerful businessman, he knew everyone who was anyone, he could get away with _anything_.

Including selling his sons' bodies to eager, disturbed clients.

So they were stuck - what could they do? Their mother had moved back to the Philippians when their parents divorced 4 years prior. Asking for help and running away had both failed. They were _stuck_. They couldn't escape.

It took 2 years for something to change.

In that time, they were stuck being slaves to their father's client's every desire. But it took one particularly eager client for things to start working in their favor. It was the one client who wanted both brothers. The one client who _videotaped_ _it all._ That was his mistake…well, that, and his disgusting desires.

He took Cooper first. Then Blaine. But then he wanted them both…_together_.

It was then that Cooper snapped. He slammed a lamp over the guy's head, grabbed his camera, grabbed _Blaine_, and just _ran_. It took them an hour of running, hand in hand, to get to the police station where they bared their souls, handed over the video tapes, told the cops everything, _begged_ to never go home again.

And they didn't have to.

The world had _believed them_.

They weren't sure where things had changed, maybe it was the video tapes, maybe it was the fresh fluids and bruises on them. Whatever it was, it worked. The world discovered what their father had done. He was shamed, sent to jail for three lifetimes. He became the most hated man in the country. Everyone wanted his head on a stick.

But the best part of all was Blaine and Cooper were _free_. They were a slave to no one, to no one's _desires_.

Their mother returned and scooped them up, hid them away from the world that wanted their story. They took their mothers last name, moved across the country, started new lives. Things got better. Easier.

And thought things may have changed, may have gotten better…they'd never be able to forget.

That was why when Sam came and Blaine discovered what he did willingly, what he did for money, he was horrified. Sure Sam wasn't proud of it, and it was not the same as what Blaine had gone through, not _nearly_ the same…it still brought back memories. Once he heard Sam's story he lost the ability to sleep, to think of anything but the memories of hands all over him, of kisses on his neck as he cried.

So when Sam said it he snapped.

"_What we need to sell here is sex."_

"_I'm _**not****for sale**_!"_

Blaine curled on his side on the floor of the locker room. He didn't care who would see him, who would find him. He couldn't stop the memories, the nightmares. He could only try to move on, and never ever go back.

But God damn it, it was so _hard_.

"I'm _not_ for sale. I'll _never_ be for sale. Not again. _Never again._"


	2. Chapter 2

**Aren't Any Words**: Someone else finds out about Blaine's past, but is it a bad thing?

Quick drabble, hope you enjoy!

00

Blaine jumped as his arm was grabbed and he was tugged into an empty classroom. He spun around, ready to fight, when he saw he wasn't about to be attacked by jocks.

"Sam," He gasped, taking a step back in his relief, "Jesus, you scared me."

"Sorry," Sam said awkwardly, biting his lip. He was looking Blaine up and down, a troubled look on his face.

When he said nothing else Blaine raised an eyebrow. Sam had been acting weird all day, avoiding looking at Blaine, not talking to him. Blaine had worried he was mad at him for something, and now here they stood. "Is there a reason you kidnapped me, Sam?"

The teen quickly snapped back to attention, "Oh, yeah, right." Blaine felt a little nervous as Sam made no joke about the kidnapping comment but just shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "Listen, Blaine, I-" Sam cut himself off, clearly unsure of how to go about what he was trying to get out, "What I want to say is-" Another pause. "I just—I-"

"Spit it out, Sam!" Blaine laughed, but the laugh sounded a little desperate. Sam was flustered, worried looking, Blaine didn't like seeing his friends that way.

"I know." Sam finally said, looking Blaine deep in the eyes.

Blaine paused, waiting for more, but Sam said nothing. "Know…what?"

"Blaine," Sam stepped forward, "I _know_."

A thousand scenarios popped into Blaine's head about what he could be referring to. In the deepest, most panicked part of his mind he was sure he already knew, but _he_wasn't going to be the one to say it out loud.

"Sam, you're really gonna have to help me out here." Blaine said, letting out a slightly panicked laugh.

"Blaine…" Blaine titled his head to the side, about to let out an exasperated 'What?' but Sam spoke first, "…Blaine Montgomery."

The stopped Blaine dead. All breath left him. His chest felt like it as on fire. His hands began to shake.

Sam took a step forward, clearly panicked by Blaine's reaction, but Blaine took a violent step back, slamming hard into a desk he hadn't realized was there.

"Blaine-" Sam started to say, eyes wide.

"How—what-how did you-" Blaine shook his head, trying to swallow down the panic.

_No one was supposed to know. _**No one was supposed to know!**

"I—I was doing a paper for Law and Government about famous sex crimes and the John Montgomery case popped up and I just—" Sam swallowed hard, "I found out his son's name was Blaine and he…John looks like you-"

"I look nothing like him!" Blaine snarled before he could stop himself. He clapped his hand over his mouth as he realized if he hadn't confirmed Sam's suspicions with his previous reaction he pretty much did now. "I—I-"

"Blaine." Sam said quietly, "I—I'm sorry-"

"Why are you telling me this?" Blaine asked, "Why couldn't you have just—just pretended you didn't know?"

"Because I-" Sam's words died on his lips. His eyes were glassy with tears and regret. "I don't—" He swallowed hard, "Thinking about the fight we got in-"

"I thought we already made up for that. We both apologized." Blaine whispered, running his fist under his nose.

"I know but—had I known-"

"You didn't."

"Yeah, but I still-"

"Please just drop it, Sam."

"Blaine, I-"

"_Sam_." The once-homeless boy's jaw snapped shut, blinking at Blaine. "It was a long time ago that that happened, alright? I—I'm _finally_ moving on. Kurt and I were only just able to—to-_you know_."

"Does Kurt know?"

"No. And he's not _going_ to." Blaine's eyes flash and Sam held his hands up in defense.

"I won't tell, I promise. I just—I was just wondering-"

"Well he doesn't know." Blaine whispered, sitting on the edge of a desk, taking a deep breath.

Sam bit his lip, stepping forward.

"I…I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm sorry I brought it up…I—I just-"

"It's ok, Sam." Blaine whispered, blinking up at the blond boy with a soft smile. "Heck, it's kind of a comfort to have someone else baring the cross with me." Blaine's smile dropped as he glanced down to his hands, "Though I wish you didn't have to."

"I'm happy to." Sam said immediately, sitting beside Blaine quickly. "I may have found out on accident but—but I—I'm…here…if you need me. Ok?"

Blaine smiled softly, "Thanks, Sam." Blaine blinked away his own tears only to see Sam had some of his own streaming down his face. "Aw, c'mon Sam. Don't cry." Blaine laughed awkwardly, sniffling.

"I'm sorry." Sam whispered. "I just…I don't know what else to say…"

"Don't say anything, then." Blaine whispered, looking blankly across the room. "Sometimes there aren't any words."

Neither boy said anything else. Sam placed his arm around Blaine's shoulder and the smaller teen leaned into him. They just sat there together for a moment, not needing to say anything else. Because sometime there weren't any words.


End file.
